The Sea Nymph
by Papat K'Tanah
Summary: Margaret Turner is obsessed with pirates. She loves her Uncle George's stories about Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants. But that was ten years ago. [Summary Con't. Inside]
1. Uncle Georgie

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Title: The _Sea Nymph_

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Author: Rosie Rosen

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Summary: Margaret Turner is obsessed with pirates. She loves her Uncle George's stories about Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants. But that was ten years ago. Now, she couldn't care less about the old sea dog and is more interested in being a lady of high society. What happens when she has to find her Uncle George to save her parents… and is sent in the direction of the pirate village of Tortuga?

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Chapter: Chapter One; Uncle Georgie

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Rating: PG

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Disclaimer: Disney owns Pirates of the Caribbean and all its affiliates. I own Margaret Turner, the _Sea Nymph_, and the plot. Plagiarists, ye be warned.

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** * **

The women of the _Sea Nymph_ maneuvered their ship up alongside the _Black Pearl_. The ocean stirred as cannons were loaded and insults flew back and forth between the majestic ship, whose bowsprit was carved with an ethereal fay-woman, and the morbid one, whose sails were black and tattered. The men of the _Pearl_ became uneasy, however, at the prospect of fighting the fiercest women at sea. Swiftly, the _Nymph_'s crew boarded the _Pearl_, speedily sending the able-bodied men into surrender. 

The triumphant women parted their throng to allow their captain through. She was not what anyone expected. Young, no more than nine years old, and small. She had a sword at her side and a faded purple coat that dragged on the deck behind her. Her light brown hair was pulled back into jaunty plait and her brown eyes were narrowed at the _Pearl's_ captain, held captive by two of her strongest crew members. The girl drew her sword and smirked at her foe. 

"You see, Jack Sparrow, you may be the captain of the fastest ship in the Caribbean… but that is no match for Maggie Turner and the _Sea Nymph_." Maggie circled her flinching victim and her girls threw the man onto his knees. She paused, as if trying to decide just how to take care of him.

"Silent, hm? Too scared to stand up to a girl?" She brandished her sword expertly, until it would be ludicrous for the older man to make an escape attempt without being sliced. "You've met your end, Jack Sparrow!"

"First of all, it's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, and secondly, did you forget his pistol, lass?" Maggie, startled out of her daydream, whirled around to see a familiar man standing in the doorway.

"Uncle Georgie!" Maggie squealed and leapt into her uncle's arms. "Nobody told me you were coming to visit!" She gazed up at him, grinning at his well-groomed appearance. He wore the same thing he always wore; a finely tailored suit and a big hat with a giant feather. His style was strangely like her father's. But unlike her father, George was _wild._ His voice hardly matched the family's well-to-do background, being rough and slightly uncouth, most likely due to him being at sea most of the time in his merchant ship. And he made a much better storyteller; her father's tales were too… heroic.

Uncle George scoffed. "I never tell anyone when I'm coming, lass." He set her down and knelt by her, his eyes mischievous. "Otherwise your mum and dad would be all prepared for me, and that's no fun." Maggie laughed and pulled her uncle downstairs.

"What did you bring me, Uncle George?" Maggie greedily searched his pockets, looking for anything that could be hers.

George grinned and let her search him. "Maybe I didn' bring you anythin'." Maggie shook her head determinedly, knowing he never came without some kind of token. She was searching his boots when he produced a package out of nowhere. Maggie shrieked happily and tore apart the fine paper. She held up the silver brush and hand mirror set, admiring them.

"Oh, Uncle, they're beautiful! Tell me how you got them, please?" She gazed at her reflection in the mirror and smiled at herself.

"Well, lass, I was on my way back from Timbuktu--lovely place--when we was attacked by pirates. Hundreds of 'em. All me crew leapt overboard in fright and I had to fight all ten thousand by me onesies. When I finally chucked 'em all off me ship, I claimed their vessel for meself and plundered everythin' that they'd been collecting from unwillin' innocents like yerself." George finished his tale to see Maggie's bright eyes staring up into his in complete disbelief. "It's true, missy." 

"Oh, Uncle George, you know you couldn't do that." Maggie paused, then said accusingly, "I remember you promised the last time you visited that you'd tell me the story of how Jack Sparrow commandeered a ship right out from under Commodore Norrington's nose… all by himself!"

George caught eyes with his brother, William Turner, who had just walked into the room. "Alright, I promise I will after I chat with your father." Maggie nodded and ran upstairs, clutching her new mirror and brush. Will Turner smiled after her, then turned to face the other man.

"'All by himself,' hm, Jack?" Will crossed his arms and tilted his head, calling "George" by his real name. "What happened to the key character in that story? You know… me."

"Now, now, Willy, you and Elizabeth were the ones who didn't want the little one knowin' about all that." Captain Jack Sparrow raised an eyebrow. "And you were hardly the _key_ character." Will chuckled slightly.

"You'd best tell this story well… Margaret's getting older, and next time you come back, she may not be interested in pirate tales anymore." Will tugged wistfully at his hair. "I found a gray one the other day. Whereas you don't look a day older than the last time we saw you. The sea must agree with us pirates."

Jack hid a smile. "Which would explain why you look absolutely horrible, mate. When was the last time you sailed on my pretty ship, Will?" Will rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Come, Jack, see Elizabeth upstairs. She's carrying our second child now, you know." Will smiled mischievously. "If it's a boy, we'll name him George." 

** * **

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Author's Note: Okay, it's not much now… but you just wait, my pretties.


	2. Miss Bella Adams

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Title: The _Sea Nymph_

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Author: Rosie Rosen

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Summary: Margaret Turner is obsessed with pirates. She loves her Uncle George's stories about Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants. But that was ten years ago. Now, she couldn't care less about the old sea dog and is more interested in being a lady of high society. What happens when she has to find her Uncle George to save her parents… and is sent in the direction of the pirate village of Tortuga?

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Chapter: Chapter Two; Miss Bella Adams

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Rating: PG

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Disclaimer: Disney owns Pirates of the Caribbean and all its affiliates. I own Margaret Turner, Miss Bella, the _Sea Nymph_, and the plot. Plagiarists, ye be warned. 

** * **

"Margaret, what is it you have there?" Margaret Turner's governess, Miss Bella, peered piercingly over her charge's shoulder. Bella Adams was a striking lady, with raven-black hair pulled into a severe bun and scandalously blue eyes that were forever narrowed in discontentment. She was tall and slender and always wore dark colors. Had she not always been glaring or telling Margaret what to do, she would have been very beautiful. 

Margaret quickly hid the silver mirror and brush her Uncle George had given her three years ago. The older woman had never approved of Margaret owning frivolously valuable items. She had already confiscated a fancy brooch, given to Margaret by her mother, Elizabeth, and a gold pen that had been a gift from a favorite former governess. 

"Nothing, Miss Bella," she responded, as innocently as possible. She stared up at the governess, who had only been with her for a month thus far. However, since she had come to the Turner house, Margaret had intently focused on being a young woman, instead of a little girl. It was a change that her parents were proud of. Margaret wanted to be sophisticated, with long, fashionable dresses and everything, her hair, her powders and paints, her jewels (what little she was allowed to wear) perfect. She refused to answer to the name "Maggie", only Margaret, and no longer played silly pirate games or was interested in pirate stories.

Miss Bella looked at her sternly, then seemed to dismiss Margaret's treasure hoarding. "Open your French primer, Margaret. And sit correctly; your posture is not at all ladylike." Miss Bella's posture was, as always, perfect.

** * **

The Turner family had hired governesses for Margaret since her baby brother William-George Turner was born. For two and a half years, Margaret had endured private lessons, learning to become a proper lady. Miss Bella was her fourth governess. The other three had left after various pirate attacks on Port Royal. They didn't feel safe, and each had apologized profusely to the Turners before leaving for England.

It was a worry how long Miss Bella would stay. Port Royal was under the constant threat of pirates, being in a choice place on the Spanish Main for raiding. But she seemed as if she was made of tougher stuff than the other three governesses. She more often than not got what she wanted and, if she didn't, she would find a way to either bully or flatter her desires from people.

When Miss Bella finally finished the tedious, but "very necessary," French lesson, Margaret sighed with relief. The governess left the room and Margaret fingered the intricate silver patterns on the back of the brush hidden in her skirt. She held the mirror up and ran the brush through her light brown hair. She paused her gentle strokes and set it down, examining her face in the mirror.

"Too tan to be a lady," she told herself unhappily. "Too many freckles." Margaret was scrutinizing over her eyebrows when Miss Bella's reflection appeared in the mirror behind hers. Margaret spun around, looking guilty.

"I had come in here to remind you of your mother's dinner party tonight, and to tell you to dress accordingly. Hand me those items, Margaret." Miss Bella held out her hand and Margaret clutched the brush and mirror close to her.

"Please, Miss Bella! My Uncle George gave them to me, and he hasn't visited since then." Margaret's features became worried. "If he was killed on his ship, these are my only memories of him." Miss Bella's expression did not waver.

"Perhaps I'll give them back to you when you're older. A young girl will just lose precious things. I will talk to your mother about giving you a plain glass hand mirror and a wooden brush." Miss Bella motioned with her hand, as if to say, "I'm waiting, child." Margaret didn't move.

"I won't give them to you, I won't!" she shouted. "You don't understand! Uncle Georgie…" Miss Bella cut Margaret's pleas off sharply with a brisk slap.

"I know much about your 'Uncle Georgie.' He's a rogue, and doesn't deserve to have the good name of Turner! Your mother and father are fine, upstanding people. Surely you want to be like that, instead of a good-for-nothing merchant?" Miss Bella firmly took the brush and mirror out of the girl's hands, leaving Margaret free to gingerly touch her stinging cheek. "You will learn to obey your elders, Margaret, or you will never be a fine lady."

Margaret watched as Miss Bella swept regally out of the room, tears springing into her eyes. She dropped onto her bed and began to sob. How could Miss Bella say such things about Uncle George! But, then, Miss Bella had never been wrong about anything, and Margaret knew fine ladies never lied. She wished Uncle George was there to prove Miss Bella wrong, to comfort Margaret and to make Miss Bella give back what was not hers.

"Oh, Uncle Georgie," Margaret whispered into her pillow, choked with tears. "Where are you?"

** * **

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Author's Note: I know, I know, there's no Jack, or Will, or Elizabeth in this chapter! But I promise there will be in the next chapter. At least one of them. ^_~ After all, who knows what happened to Uncle Georgie?


	3. Elizabeth Turner

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Title: The _Sea Nymph_

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Author: Rosie Rosen

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Summary: Margaret Turner is obsessed with pirates. She loves her Uncle George's stories about Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants. But that was ten years ago. Now, she couldn't care less about the old sea dog and is more interested in being a lady of high society. What happens when she has to find her Uncle George to save her parents… and is sent in the direction of the pirate village of Tortuga?

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Chapter: Chapter Three; Elizabeth Turner

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Rating: PG

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Disclaimer: Disney owns Pirates of the Caribbean and all its affiliates. I own Margaret Turner, Miss Bella, the _Sea Nymph_, and the plot. Plagiarists, ye be warned.

** * **

Elizabeth Turner gingerly touched her narrow waist and took a deep breath. She refused to wear corsets, except on special occasions such as this one. She was giving a dinner party for all the people in the high circles of Port Royal; her father and his friends, William's friends and their wives, the Commodore…

Elizabeth sighed wistfully at the thought of Commodore Norrington. She had never been in love with him, and his view on pirates certainly didn't sit well with her, but she had always felt guilty about marrying William after promising herself to the Commodore. And he _was_ handsome, in that older man sort of way. She had always admired him as a sailor and his morals were immaculate.

"The guests are arriving, darling," Will said softly, appearing behind Elizabeth. She startled and smiled at her husband.

"You frightened me, William!" Elizabeth took his arm and, walking into the entry-way, radiantly beamed at how sophisticated he looked wearing a hat she had picked out for him, instead of one those silly, impractical feathered contrivances. Everything was exactly how it should be. Greeting all her esteemed guests, Elizabeth looked the perfect hostess.

** * **

At dinner, Margaret couldn't help but notice her mother looked the perfect hostess. Her hair, done up in perfect ringlet curls, bounced flirtatiously around her head. She was proud of her mother's tiny waist and slender fingers, her grace and manner. Margaret looked down at herself, sitting unnoticed at the end of the table, with no chest or hips, and short, stubby hands. She felt awkward, knowing her eyes were still red-rimmed from crying. She glanced up to see Miss Bella stand politely and glide her way. 

"Margaret, it is time for you to go to bed," Miss Bella said curtly. Margaret couldn't recall ever seeing her governess look so pretty. Her raven hair was curled like Elizabeth's, and her blue eyes shone from the attentions of the men that had the fortune to sit near her. 

"Oh, Miss Bella, may I please just…" Margaret hesitated, remembering the sting of Miss Bella's slap. "If you say so, Miss Bella." The younger girl let herself be herded upstairs, wistfully watching as the guests stood up to dance. She paused as she passed William-George's room.

"Miss Bella, may I please say good-night to my brother?" Miss Bella nodded, with an expression that clearly said "be quick", and floated into Margaret's room. Margaret opened William-George's door cautiously and tip-toed into his room.

He looked like her father, with curly brown hair that had yet to be trimmed. Margaret loved watching him. He was so small and knew so little. Every day was a new experience for William-George. To Margaret, life seemed to drag on. She wanted to scream at everyone, sometimes, and she often disobeyed her mother and Miss Bella. She wished she could be just a little older or younger. Being eleven was so _difficult._

"Georgie…" Margaret whispered. "Appreciate being this age now. When you're as old as I am, everyone tries to change you. They take your things and tell you you're wrong. And they expect things of you; to be quiet, to be pleasant, to be perfect." Margaret went quiet, listening to hear if Miss Bella was coming in. "If only Uncle George were here… he's not a scoundrel, like Miss Bella thinks. She's never met him, and neither have you. So don't listen to them, baby brother."

"Margaret!" Margaret winced and leaned down to kiss her brother on the forehead before running out of the room.

** * **

Downstairs, the guests laughed and danced, whirling around the floor. The women were beautiful and the men were charming. Elizabeth curtsied to Will, who bowed aristocratically. They spun, Elizabeth pleased her party had been such a success, Will pleased that Elizabeth was pleased. Someone tapped Will's shoulder respectfully.

"May I cut in, William?" Will turned around and bowed again.

"Of course, Governor Swann." Elizabeth smiled and curtsied to her father, who took her in his arms. Will took the chance, gladly, to sit down and rest. Elizabeth rested her head on her father's shoulder.

"This evening was wonderful, Elizabeth. It's good to see you so rosy and cheerful." Governor Swann held his daughter closer and she closed her eyes.

"Thank you, Father. It really was simply exquisite, wasn't it?" Elizabeth opened her eyes as a loud crash resonated throughout the room. An awkward figure, wearing a huge, garish feather she recognized, shushed the broken vase erratically, then looked around apprehensively. 

"I thought I told Will not to wear that hat!" She, by chance, checked where Will had been sitting when she last left him. He was still there. 

She knew it was none of the other guests she had invited. None of them would be caught dead wearing anything as silly as that feather in their hats. She murmured, "Who…?" The mysteriously familiar feather disappeared from the crowd, into the entry way.

"Excuse me…" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, curious, and pushed her way through her guests. The person had vanished. He had either gone upstairs or into Will's private study. Elizabeth checked the study. Locked. She picked up her skirts and tentatively, but quickly, began to investigate the second floor.

Elizabeth checked William-George's room, which was empty save for her little son. She turned to leave, but a glint of something shiny caught her eye. George was clutching a crudely sewn stuffed rabbit toy. In one of its long ears was a gold earring. Elizabeth calculated this new addition for only a second before running into Margaret's room.

Nothing. Or, nobody. Not exactly nothing, Elizabeth noticed a slightly yellowed envelope on Margaret's nightstand. Margaret slept peacefully. Elizabeth sprinted into the hall, nearly colliding with Will.

"Elizabeth, what's wrong? Why did you leave the party?" Will, genuinely concerned, held Elizabeth's shoulders and she struggled out of his grip, explaining breathlessly,

"Ja- George! I saw him, but…" Elizabeth pulled Will towards their room, briefly examining every other room they passed. None contained the man she was looking for.

"Are you quite sure, Elizabeth?" Elizabeth nodded and pushed open the door to the master bedroom.

Nobody.

Two envelopes, like the one on Margaret's nightstand, were set innocently on the bed, one on Elizabeth's pillow and one on Will's. Elizabeth picked hers up, and turned it over, reading the last minute message scrawled on the back.

"'Would've stayed longer, loves, but I think my old friend the Commodore caught sight of me. Next time, invite me to the party. – Uncle C. J. S. George.'" Elizabeth looked up. "He was really here." Will stared out the open window, into the night.

"How could we doubt it?" Will put his arm around Elizabeth, watching as a parrot perched on a nearby tree flew into the night, to a ghostly ship just leaving port.

** * **

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Author's Note: Well. It had a lot of Will and Elizabeth, didn't it? I told you they'd be here. It was a little sugar-sweet in some parts. You'll forgive me. Longest chapter yet, though. Go me!


	4. A Disappointing Letter

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Title: The _Sea Nymph_

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Author: Rosie Rosen

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Summary: Margaret Turner is obsessed with pirates. She loves her Uncle George's stories about Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants. But that was ten years ago. Now, she couldn't care less about the old sea dog and is more interested in being a lady of high society. What happens when she has to find her Uncle George to save her parents… and is sent in the direction of the pirate village of Tortuga?

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Chapter: Chapter Four; A Disappointing Letter

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Rating: PG

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Disclaimer: Disney owns Pirates of the Caribbean and all its affiliates. I own Margaret Turner, Miss Bella, the _Sea Nymph_, and the plot. Plagiarists, ye be warned.

** * **

The envelope lay unnoticed on Margaret's nightstand as she dressed for breakfast. She laced up her overdress and reached for her brush. After a few minutes of frantic groping around her vanity, she remembered it had been taken away and picked up a small comb instead. Angrily tugging the comb through her hair, Margaret decided it wouldn't do. She would have to get her things back.

She opened her door and looked up and down the corridor. She saw Miss Bella's skirts disappear around a corner and took her chance. Miss Bella's room, right across from Margaret's own, was just smaller than Margaret's. It had a larger vanity table, but the bed, clad in pale red bedclothes, was not as fancy. Margaret took a quick glance at the door before opening the drawer of the vanity.

It was filled with different pots of powders and rouges, combs and brushes, tiny mirrors, bigger mirrors, and jewelry. Margaret saw the familiar design of her silver brush and grabbed it. But a thorough search didn't find her hand mirror. She checked again, and was looking through the things on top of the table for a third time when she heard someone coming down the hall.

Frenziedly, she stuffed her brush in a pocket and shut the table drawer. Miss Bella pushed open the door, freezing when she saw Margaret standing in the middle of the room.

"What do you think you're doing?" Miss Bella hissed. She towered over Margaret menacingly. Margaret trembled and opened her mouth to explain. Nothing came out. Miss Bella, looking as if she might explode, raised her hand to hit the girl. Margaret closed her eyes tightly and held her breath.

"Miss," wavered a timid voice. Miss Bella whirled around hastily, putting her arm down. A maid stood shyly in the doorway. "Mistress Turner requests your and Margaret's presence at breakfast." Margaret let out her breath in a sigh of relief. Miss Bella picked up her skirts and swept grandly from the room, obviously incensed. She stormed down the stairs, with Margaret following warily behind, constantly poking at the brush in her pocket to make sure her governess would not notice it.

** * **

William-George gripped his new toy, the ragged pirate-rabbit. With his other hand, he picked up a biscuit and shoved it in his mouth, crumbs scattering everywhere. Elizabeth glanced at her son and smiled. She wiped his mouth of the crumbs and handed him a piece of sausage. Her husband stood up as Miss Bella and Margaret walked into the room.

"What took you?" Elizabeth said, amusement in her voice. She rarely was angry with her children, though Margaret often saw her being furiously stubborn with other adults. Margaret and Miss Bella sat at their respective places at the table.

"Nothing, Mother, just woke up late." Margaret took a bite of toast and filled her glass with milk. She knew her mother would understand that. Elizabeth liked to sleep in until the latest possible moment. As she suspected, her mother smiled and nodded at the response.

"Heaw, Maw'gwet…" William-George held out his half-eaten sausage. "Heaw." Margaret took the meat from her little brother good-naturedly.

"Why, thank you, Willy," she remarked. She noticed the rabbit plaything in his hand. "Mother, where did William-George get that?" Elizabeth touched the toy and an odd look came over her face. Margaret's father spoke up,

"You didn't find the letter?" He took his similar envelope out of his coat pocket. Margaret tilted her head, puzzled. "It's on your nightstand. Your- we had a visitor last night." Margaret's eyes widened.

"A… visitor?" She sprang up from the table. "Excuse me!" Margaret ran upstairs to her room, seeing the envelope next to her bed for the first time. She grabbed it covetously and looked around. She couldn't open it here. If it was from who she thought it was from… She had to go somewhere else, in case Miss Bella came in.

Margaret scurried outside, into the one part of her mother's garden that overlooked the sea. Elizabeth Turner sat there often, on a wrought iron bench facing the ocean that Will had made her for one of her birthdays. Sometimes, Margaret and Elizabeth would curl up on it together, Elizabeth watching the water and Margaret watching Elizabeth.

There was something about her mother that Margaret just couldn't figure out. At that, there was something in her father, too. They just seemed to be keeping something from her. Something about the sea. Margaret used to fantasize it was pirates, when she was little. Now, she thought it was maybe something a little more morbid. Maybe Elizabeth's mother had died in a tragic drowning, or she had had a big brother or sister that died in the water. After all, there was a period of time after Elizabeth and Will's marriage that Margaret knew nothing of. They hadn't had babies right away, the way the other married men and women did in Port Royal. So it was entirely probable that _something_ dramatic had happened.

Margaret sat down on the bench, staring at the sheathed message hungrily. She didn't want to open it and be disappointed because it _wasn't_ from her uncle. But if it was…

She finally tore it open and pulled out the letter. Without looking at the words, she glanced to the bottom and saw the flourished signature "Uncle Georgie." Margaret sighed happily and started reading what he'd written her.

**_Dear Maggie,_**

Margaret winced. She hadn't let anyone call her Maggie in nearly two years. It was so childish. But Uncle George wouldn't have known that.

**__**

I'm sorry I could not staye longer, just the nite. ["But he didn't stay the night," Margaret said quietly to herself, "He just dropped the letter off and left."] **_Ye unnerstand, I'm a verry busy merchent. Still got the brush an mirror I gave ye? I'm still lookin fer the perfect present for a girl yer age. Thats why I did not bring anyfing for ye this time. Sorry._**

Margaret paused, noticing for the first time that he _hadn't_ brought her anything, now that it was pointed out. He'd brought something for William-George, though…

**__**

I'm glad yer parents named the little boy after me, if they did as they said they woulde. Liddle George. Hope he likes the rabit I made. When he's old enuff, tell yer father to put the rabit's gold earing into yer brother's ear. So he'll look like me. Any way, my crew needs me. Next time, I'll tell you the story of how Captain Jack Sparrow got The Black Pearl in the first place.

Luv,

Uncle Georgie

She reread it once, then again. Then once more, for good measure. It didn't appease her at all. Her uncle should have talked to her, not tried to explain anything in a letter full of painful spelling. He was more interested in her brother than her, apparently. Margaret crumpled the letter up and threw it as hard as she could, trying to make it land in the water and falling short hundreds of feet.

Her uncle was just as bad as anyone said. His spelling proved Miss Bella's point; that he wasn't quite the Turner he should be. How could he be in her house and not even say hello?! Disappearing for three years and then returning only to be ghostly and disappear again! Margaret felt tears coming, and choked them back. How could he…?

Margaret tried to console herself. He was busy. In danger. He had a shipment he had agreed to give to someone by a certain date or they'd kill him. She suddenly wished she hadn't thrown his letter, and ran after it, tearing her dress on the plants and tripping when it became steep. Dirty and disheveled, she found the wrinkled ball of paper and held it close, trying to flatten it. Margaret slipped it into the pocket with the silver brush. She would catch hell about her appearance from Miss Bella, but, she decided, it was worth it.

** * **

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Author's Note: No, I'm not happy about the way this ended… *pout* But… there's a sunny side to every situation, as I've learned from my Forty-Second Street soundtrack!


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